Champion Of Lust: Gods Conquer's Harem Paradise!

The Dragon Empress sat in one of the VIP makeup rooms of the Obsidian Theatre, draped in silence that weighed heavier than any crown she had ever worn. Stylists and attendants moved around her like shadows—efficient, precise, and blessedly professional. These weren't people who dared ask why she—Astrid, Empress of the Dragon Empire—was here, under the banner of House Obsidian.

They didn't need to. Granted...

Astrid was already uncomfortable enough for all of them.

The reflection of the empress in the grand mirror was flawless, yet she barely recognized the woman staring back. Every inch of her was sculpted to perfection—painted, powdered, polished into the ideal Empress. Regal. Cold. Untouchable. But beneath the shimmering surface, something churned restlessly.

This alliance… The thought clawed through her mind like a beast caged too long. This connection of her with the Obsidians will cause a storm.

And not just any storm—a reckoning. Everyone would see it for what it was: a declaration that the two dragon families no longer walked the same path and with the empress being on the other opposite side. That Astrid had stepped outside the gilded cage of palace politics and aligned herself with power that threatened the very foundation of the empire's royal family.

But this wasn't for politics. This wasn't for ambition.

This was for Seraphina—her daughter?

For the first time in her life, Astrid refused to stay silent and watch her daughter be swallowed by the same merciless machine that had consumed so many before her. The palace was never rainbows and sunshine—behind every silk curtain and polished marble wall were shadows darker than night. And yet, she had let herself be still for too long, pretending that survival was enough.

Not this time.

What burned her more was realizing she wasn't alone in this fight.

Who would've thought… Her former best friend—now back together—an Obsidian mistress and the duchess of the dragon empire of all people—shared the same fierce desperation to keep Seraphina alive. And then there was him—the son of her old friend. A man who had proven he'd burn down the very walls of the Dragon Empire if that's what it took to protect Seraphina. Even if it meant dragging House Obsidian into an all-out war with the empire.

That truth had shifted something deep inside Astrid. Something she couldn't name yet.

For the first time, she began to wonder if she could ever return to that gilded prison—the palace that had devoured every piece of her humanity in exchange for power she barely wanted anymore.

But what she didn't realize was that she stood on the edge of a cliff. One wrong move—or what would appear to be a wrong move to others, one final push, and she would plummet.

Into chaos. Into inevitable conflict. Into rivalries that would tear worlds apart.

And maybe—just maybe—into a kind of happiness she had never dared to imagine.

If she was willing to pay the price.

If she could afford it.

Minutes later, the restless Empress emerged from the confines of the makeup room—clothed, composed, and sculpted into the image of regal perfection. Astrid didn't need the layers of makeup or lavish touch-ups to embody beauty; she was beauty incarnate. No amount of effort could enhance what was already breathtaking.

Her silver hair fell in soft waves, cascading like liquid moonlight over her shoulders, catching the light in a way that seemed almost unnatural—ethereal. She wore a gown of deep obsidian silk, stitched with veins of shimmering silver thread that danced like stardust with every movement. The dress hugged her figure with effortless elegance, a high neckline accentuating her graceful posture, her cleavage and long white neck tempting while a slit down the leg offered a whisper of defiant beneath the royal restraint— defiance that not even Dragon Emperor could weather down. But maybe someone would.

What appeared to look like a delicate diamond chain sat along her collarbone, subtle yet undeniable, a reminder of her status without screaming for attention.

But even draped in such magnificence, there was something more potent than her beauty—the aura of helplessness that wrapped around her like invisible chains. It didn't diminish her grace; no, it made her seem almost tragic.

Like a goddess who had been made to kneel yet refused to lose her dignity.

She inhaled slowly—graceful, controlled, poised—before exhaling a breath that was, ironically, beautiful in itself. Flawless. Without imperfection.

And yet… someone had disregarded her.

Drakos.

Only a fool would dismiss such divinity. But apparently, fools were born every day.

Astrid moved forward, her steps silent but commanding, until she stood before the full-view mirror that overlooked the grand hall below. The theatre bustled with anticipation—staff moving in hurried precision, making final adjustments as lesser guests filtered in. A sea of meaningless faces, none of whom mattered tonight.

Her gaze swept downward—there it was. The seat reserved for him. The Dragon Emperor. Even from this distance, that chair was like a throne of dread.

A cold ripple slid down her spine. She didn't know how she would survive the storm brewing tonight, but somehow—she would. She had to.

Turning away from the glass, Astrid glided to the nearest couch—an elegant structure upholstered in rich midnight velvet with gilded edges, designed for powerhouses like House Obsidian. The room itself was vast, crafted for those who didn't just own wealth but commanded it. Crystal chandeliers spilled light like liquid gold across marble floors, while towering black-and-silver pillars gave the space an air of untouchable prestige.

Low tables scattered around held rare spirits, fine glassware, and arrangements of obsidian roses—a clear, calculated show of luxury and dominance. Experience more content on My Virtual Library Empire

But Astrid didn't notice the extravagance. She sank into the couch with quiet composure, her thoughts racing faster than her pulse would ever betray.

What choices did she truly have?

Maybe none.

Or maybe she didn't need choices… not when there were others willing to bleed for her and her daughter.

One person? Two? Three? Four? Half of them?

Or maybe… the entire House Obsidian.

Willing to let themselves be used as her shield.

Willing to burn the empire to the ground if it meant protecting her—and Seraphina.

Hopefully.

But deep down, Astrid didn't doubt them—House Obsidian. Not for a second. Their loyalty for those they considered their own wasn't just whispered in promises; it was etched in actions, in the way they moved around her, shielding her with subtle gestures that didn't need to be loud to be powerful. They were a house built on ruthlessness and strategy, not sentimentality—and yet, they had made her and Seraphina their cause.

Still, loyalty didn't answer the question clawing at her gut: Where did that leave her when everything went down?

Because it would go down.

And when the dust settled, when the echoes of power, betrayal, and blood finished screaming through the halls of history… only one family would still be standing.

Would it be House Obsidian, the relentless force that had risen from shadows and sharpened itself into a blade that could cut through any empire? A family that existed even before most ancient bloodlines came to be.

Or would it be the Royal Family—the ancient bloodline that had ruled for centuries, unchallenged, unbroken, carrying the weight of tradition and unyielding authority?

The civil war—the one that had been brewing in the undercurrents of the Dragon Empire since ancient times—was finally baring its teeth. No more whispers in darkened halls. No more subtle power plays beneath gilded masks. This time, it wouldn't be a quiet betrayal hidden behind diplomacy.

This time… it was going to be chaos.

And Astrid? She didn't know where she would stand when the storm truly hit.

She knew the full weight of Royal Power—she knew how suffocating and merciless it could be. She'd lived in its shadows, endured its cold, suffocating grasp that disguised itself as duty and legacy. It wasn't a force to scoff at—it was the kind of power that could decimate kingdoms with a flick of a wrist.

But… it didn't matter.

She had made her choice.

There was no going back.

For decades, Astrid had searched for a way out—a crack in the gilded cage of the royal family, a chance to break free from the suffocating chains of ancient duty and false loyalty.

And now, standing on the edge of chaos, she had finally found it.

The Civil War of the Dragon Empire wasn't just an inevitability—it was a living, breathing beast, and its fangs were already sinking into the heart of the empire. The inescapable maws of destruction and chaos had opened wide, and soon—no one would escape.

And it all started today.

No more waiting.

No more chains.

Just the storm.